


1.12: Dress You Up In My Love

by JustLikeTheSong



Series: NYC Spin-Off 'Verse [15]
Category: Glee
Genre: Friendship, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-22
Updated: 2013-01-24
Packaged: 2017-11-26 10:53:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/649775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustLikeTheSong/pseuds/JustLikeTheSong
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(1) Tasked with running his first fashion show, Kurt encounters a problem and calls in the cavalry.</p><p>(2) Isabelle asks Kurt and his friends to provide entertainment for a party.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Fashion Emergency

“Helloooo!” [Rachel’s](http://media.tumblr.com/tumblr_mewknyPoAX1qilqg8.png) voice trilled out as she let herself into the apartment.

[Santana](http://www3.pictures.stylebistro.com/pc/Naya+Rivera+Jeans+Ripped+Jeans+ds471PybLKfl.jpg) groaned beside [Blaine](http://24.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_meccmfmMhx1qeds6ko1_500.jpg) on the couch.  “Shut her up, will you? God, I thought she wasn’t getting home until later tonight.”  Blaine just shook his head and patted her knee comfortingly.

“It’s just a rerun of FRIENDS,” he said, nodding at the TV, “she’s not talking over anything important.”  Santana and Blaine’s schedules were similar and consistent enough this semester that they usually lounged around the loft together on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday nights.

“Blissful silence is more important than hearing Berry’s voice,” Santana grumbled.

“I can hear you two,” Rachel informed them, coming up to them and standing in front of the TV, crossing her arms, “for your information, rehearsal was cancelled this evening, Santana.”

Blaine’s phone buzzed and he looked down at the incoming text message as Santana wondered aloud whether Rachel was naturally or intentionally this annoying.

_SOS need u to come rescue me EMERGECNY_

Blaine stared down at the text from Kurt, his heart in his throat, and then jumped up from the couch.

_Fashion emergency!_

He sank back down in his seat in relief.

**Don’t scare me like that! What’s up?**

_Plz come need u bring satan any willing and able bodies around_

“Okay, we need to go,” Blaine announced to the girls.

“What?” Santana glared at him.  “I have my fat pants on.  I’m not going anywhere.”

“Kurt needs us,” Blaine told them, appealing to Rachel’s concerned expression, “he has a fashion emergency.”

Rachel gasped but Santana just scoffed.  “I’m sure Fancy Pants has it under control.”

“Santana,” Blaine said, annoyed, as he pulled on his jacket and then helped Rachel into hers, “tonight’s his big show.”  He paused.  “He used textspeak.”

Santana pursed her lips.  “Well, shit,” she said, standing up, “if it’s serious, let’s go.”

**We’re on our way.**

***

They arrived at the [loft gallery](http://www.venfino.com/graphics/venues/s40b.jpg) in the Financial District 25 minutes later and mentioned Kurt’s name to security.  They were escorted backstage to find a very harried-looking [Kurt](http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-bSlM9ozyyz8/TyUjsAm_rWI/AAAAAAABAKY/3cbpVlvApSo/s640/Man+Whispers+Milan+Mens+Fashion+Week+Moschino+Autumn%253AWinter+2012+Fashion+Show_0442.jpg) running around, his hair mussed and bow tie undone around his neck.

“Oh thank God,” he said when he spotted them.  He rushed over and pressed a hasty kiss to Blaine’s lips.  “I’m about to fly off into another dimension!”

“What do you need us to do?” Blaine asked.  “Help with wardrobe changes? Seat people?”

“Nonono,” Kurt said as he flagged someone down, “Some of the models ate some bad sushi, so I need you to take their places.”

“What?” Blaine said incredulously.  Rachel clapped her hands together and Santana laughed.

“Isn’t Rachel a little pint-sized for that?” She drawled.

“You’re not tall enough to be a runway model either, Santana, but we’re just going to have to make do,” Kurt snapped, “I’m putting you both in the highest heels I can find.  I’ll have to make some quick alterations to Blaine’s outfits, and…oh no, who’s going to take Philip’s spot?  What am I going to do?! Isabelle trusted me with this and it’s going to blow up in my face.  I’m gonna get fired and blackballed in the fashion industry and-“

“Kurt, Kurt!” Blaine grabbed his shoulders, shaking him slightly to interrupt his panicked babbling.  “Why don’t you do it?”

“Me?” Kurt squeaked.

“Kurt, you’ll be wonderful!” Rachel cried with excitement.

“You do have that femmey, haughty look lots of guy models have,” Santana mused, and Blaine was pretty sure there was a compliment in there somewhere.

Kurt paused, deliberating as a blond woman ran up to them.  “Okay,” he said, taking a deep breath, “all of you go with Jaqi here to hair and make-up.  Blaine, your hair is going to take forever!”

***

Blaine tugged Kurt down with him onto one of the plush white couches.  They had changed back into their street clothes, exhausted after the show.

“Kurt, relax! You hired people to clean up after the event.  You worked your butt off; you should celebrate!”

Kurt sighsed and slumped against Blaine, resting his head on his shoulder.  Rachel tottered forward, still in a pair ridiculously high heels, and handed them each a flute of champagne.

“Congratulations Kurt; it was amazing! This will be a great addition to my resume, and you can bet I’ll make sure Cassandra hears about it Monday during dance class.”

“Make sure you leave out the part where you almost fell flat on your face,” Santana smirked. 

Rachel waved her hand.  “I wasn’t on stage; it doesn’t count.”

“You looked so good out there,” Blaine murmursed in Kurt’s ear.  Kurt tilted his head and grinned up at him.

“Sexy and untouchable?”

“Sexy for sure.  But you’ll always be touchable to me.”  Blaine dug his fingers into Kurt’s side, and Kurt let out a snort of laughter.

“Get a room,” Santana said, amusement in her voice.

“Please,” Kurt said drily, “we all had to put up with you and Brittany pawing at each other when she visited for New Year's.”

“Play nice,” Blaine told them, and he and Kurt snuggled closer, perhaps just to bug Santana.

“If you could grow a little taller, I’d convince Isabelle to put you in every show,” Kurt told Blaine, stifling a yawn.  “and I’d brag about my handsome boyfriend at every event.”

“I think the growth spurt ship has sailed,” Blaine said with a smile, pressing a kiss to Kurt’s temple.

“I’m so glad it’s over.  God, that was one of the most terrifying, stressful nights of my life.”  Kurt pouted up at Blaine, wrapping an arm around his torso.  With his make-up washed off, Blaine could see the shadows under his eyes, and his eyelids were starting to droop.  “So you think I did okay on my first big show?”

“Isabelle is going to be thrilled,” Blaine told him, “you did amazing, baby.”

Rachel and even Santana chimed in with similar praise, before devolving into an argument about who had the better runway walk.  Blaine just hugged his sleepy boyfriend tighter.

“Thank you for rescuing me,” Kurt mumbled, his eyes fluttering shut.

As Santana loudly proclaimed she could drop out of NYU and become a famous model and Rachel said in a smug voice that all those hours spent practicing poses for yearbook pictures in her bathroom mirror finally paid off, Blaine looked down at Kurt and was glad that tonight he could play some small part in helping Kurt make his dreams come true.

Okay, and strutting down the catwalk had been pretty awesome.

***

Rachel’s hair and make up: 

 

Rachel’s runway outfits:

   

Blaine’s hair:

 

Blaine’s runway outfits:

 

Kurt’s hair:

 

Kurt’s runway outfits:

 

Santana’s hair and make up:

 

Santana’s runway outfits:

  

 

 


	2. Mustard Pants

Kurt had spent the whole weekend high on the success of his first ever fashion show.  When Isabelle had tasked him with overseeing it while she was out of town, he had been incredibly nervous, and when four of the models got food poisoning the day of the show, he thought he was going to have a nervous breakdown.  But with the help of his boyfriend and friends, everything had worked out just fine, and in Kurt’s estimation, the night was fantastic.

It didn’t stop the anxious fluttering in his stomach when Isabelle called [him](http://28.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_m3qkspQDCr1qgfb58o2_250.gif) into her office on Monday, though.

He knocked on her open door quietly and [she](http://cdn.sheknows.com/filter/l/gallery/sarah20.jpg) looked up from her computer.

“Kurt! Come in!”

Isabelle was so nice, it was hard to tell whether her smile meant good things or gently-revealed bad things, but Kurt returned it and walked in to her office, shutting the door at her request before he sat down.

“So,” Isabelle said, folding her hands on her desk, “I wanted to say thank you, Kurt, for stepping in last-minute to take care of things at the show this weekend.  By all reports, things went very well.”

“Oh, good,” Kurt breathed, relaxing in his chair, “and seriously, Isabelle, I should be thanking you.  Um, again.  This was an amazing opportunity and I’m glad you think I rose to the task.”

“I do,” she said, still smiling, “but…there is one thing I wanted to talk to you about.”

Kurt tried not to audibly gulp, shifting in his chair as Isabelle turned the screen of her computer around, revealing photos of himself, Blaine, Santana, and Rachel on the runway.

“These faces seem familiar,” Isabelle mused, tapping a finger against her lips as if in thought, though it was obvious she remembered everyone.

“That.” Kurt said, scrambling.  “Well, see…four of the models ate some bad sushi, and I haven’t really built up a reliable list of contacts just yet, and I couldn’t get a hold of anyone else, this all happened of course in the middle of several other small emergencies, so of course went to my go-to guy, who happens to be my boyfriend, because well, there’s no one I can rely on like him, for help, which led to my friends being in the fashion show and honestly I don’t think anyone noticed, really; okay, maybe they did, but – “

“Kurt,” Isabelle said with a laugh, “calm down.  I’m not angry.  In fact, I admire that kind of resourcefulness and out-of-the-box thinking."

"I'm relieved." Kurt paused, and then spoke again.  "To tell you the truth, it's good to hear you say that.  Sometimes I think my risk-taking isn't so well-received around here.  You should've seen some of the looks these mustard pants earned me in the elevator on the way up this morning."

Isabelle waved a hand.  "The mustard pants are fabulous.  It's not the first time someone's been too concerned with what's on trend to appreciate personal style and daring.  Which brings me to what I called you in here for.  Here’s what I’m thinking:  Blaine and your friend Rachel, the small one, they go to a performing arts school, right?”

“Yes…” Kurt said slowly, trying to figure out where she was going with this.

“And I’ve heard you sing, and you told me the three of you and Santana were in show choir together in high school…”

Kurt nodded.

“Well, we have that charity event coming up this weekend, and I know we’ve already hired a DJ, but I thought some live entertainment might add a young, fresh energy to the evening.”

Kurt stared at her, eyes wide.  “You mean…?”

“Do you think you and your friends would be up for it?” Isabelle asked with a smile.

“Yes! Absolutely, yes,” Kurt said, leaning forward and gripping the edge of her desk in excitement, “if you knew them like I do, that wouldn’t even be a question!”

“Great!” Isabelle typed something on her keyboard.  “Check in with them and see who’s available, and then we’ll work out the details for compensation and song choices.  Oh, and I’m going to allow, no, encourage, you to style your friends and yourself for the event.  Something coordinated with the color scheme for the night.  And feel free to borrow some things from the Closet.”  She looked at him and winked.  “Thanks so much, Kurt.”

Which was pretty ironic, since Kurt was pretty sure this was yet another thing he could add to his “I will forever be indebted to Isabelle Wright and I’m okay with that” pile.

***

“Kurt, this is amazing!” [Rachel](http://resources.shopstyle.com/mim/10/56/1056e7743e106e71c78e145261da2ac7.jpg) exclaimed.  With a big grin stretched across her face, she had her arm tucked through [his](http://luciebartlett.files.wordpress.com/2011/08/article-2029605-0d8f044e00000578-457_634x423.jpg) as she stared around the [room](http://www.newmuseum.org/img/sr-gallery/2/1.jpg), taking in the glamorous people milling about, the items set up for the silent auction, the fabulous décor.  

"It really is," he told her, taking a sip from his champagne flute.  He smiled over at [Blaine](http://24.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lzcbe8j5z71qed3doo1_250.gif), who was onstage and winked back at him as he [sang](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QSQg3Wn9ATQ) about dressing someone up in his love.

"Just think: this is what the rest of our lives are going to be like!  Fabulous parties and amazing gigs, rubbing elbows with New York's elite until we're New York's elite and people want to rub elbows with us!"

Rachel was bouncing a little on her toes, and her joy was infectous, though it couldn't quite quell the nerves twisting around in Kurt's belly.

"Rachel, are you sure my solo for tonight is the right choice?"  It wasn't the first time he'd asked her over the past few days.

"Isabelle okay'd it, right?  So it should be fine!" Rachel seemed distracted as she plucked a lettuce wrap off a tray that went by, but then she looked at him and her face softened.

"Kurt, it's a wonderful song, and you sound wonderful on it."

"It's not exactly a party song like the others...and it's sort of a controversial statement to make in this industry, don't you think?"

Rachel nudged him with her shoulder.  "Since when are you one to shy away from controversy?  Remember sophomore year, when you wore that Gaga outfit for a week.  Oh!  And how you'd always wear corsets in French class, no matter how many spitballs Azimio threw at you."

Kurt rolled his eyes.  "This is different.  Outrageous fashion is acceptable here, but it has to be the right outrageous fashion.  Nowadays I don't get derisive stares because my sartorial choices are too out-there, but because I've made some faux-pas I've yet to learn about, and it doesn't do wonders for my confidence.  It's made me question a lot of what I thought I knew about fashion.  And these aren't the troglodytes we went to high school with; they're fashion-forward people and important connections in my field."

"Well, then they should be able to respect your boldness," Rachel told him, "I always have."

Rachel was right, in theory.  But that didn't change the fact that having his sense of fashion judged and sometimes found wanting in an entirely new way in New York was quite intimidating.

"Hummel," [Santana](http://i.dailymail.co.uk/i/pix/2012/05/17/article-0-131CACE1000005DC-79_634x906.jpg) said, walking up to them with a funny gait, like something was stuck between her shoulder blades, "if you don't help me fix this dress so it doesn't itch any more, I _will_ be performing naked, and we all know Barbra here will pitch a fit if I steal her spotlight."

"Neither of you would even dare," Kurt said sweetly, levelling Santana, who looked mildly irritated, and Rachel, appalled at the idea of being upstaged, with warning looks.  Nevertheless, he escorted the both of them to the ladies' restroom and pulled out a pin from the inside pocket of his jacket, telling Rachel what adjustments to try in order to alleviate the chafing for Santana.

While they stepped away, Kurt went over to the edge of the stage to greet Blaine when he finished his number and the DJ took over for a while.

"So?" Blaine walked towards him, beaming and spreading his arms wide, "how was I?"

Kurt smirked at him.  "You know you're amazing.  Now," he said, taking Blaine's hand, "it's time to play the dutiful boyfriend and meet all the people I aspire to be or possibly one day crush with my fashion empire."

"I'm at your service," Blaine said with a playful little bow.

They circled around the room, and Kurt certainly didn't mind that his boyfriend was a charmer; it made the inane small talk easier to accomplish, and it helped to settle his nerves a bit, seeing writers and models and photographers smiling at him.

Just as Rachel and Santana had stepped on stage to sing their [numbe](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PxuP0U_rU28)r, [Isabelle](http://i.dailymail.co.uk/i/pix/2008/05/11/article-1018972-012D0CE600000578-829_233x654.jpg) waved Kurt and Blaine over.  She was standing next to a handsome blond [man](http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-XHrubixyNuY/TjiO_rTGqMI/AAAAAAAAAJA/aYp---Md3K0/s400/Dan3.jpg) and smiling brightly.

"Kurt! And Blaine.  I'd like to introduce you to Paul Apleford, head of the London branch.  He and I have an exciting project planned for next year in Paris.  Paul, this is my intern, Kurt, and his boyfriend, Blaine."

"So it's you Isabelle hired on a whim to provide us with a little entertainment tonight," Paul said with a cool British accent and a smile as he shook their hands, "this is what I love about you, darling," he told her, "you always have the craziest ideas."

Kurt fought a blush, but Isabelle came to their rescue.  "You only think it's crazy because you haven't had the pleasure of hearing Kurt sing yet," she admonished him with a light slap on the arm, "but those are his friends right now."  She nodded towards Rachel and Santana, who were exuding sexiness and a slinky vibe for their duet.  "And Blaine, you sounded wonderful.  Madge always takes me back."

"There is a very retro vibe tonight, isn't there?" Paul mused, looking around.  His eyes roved over Kurt's cap and sparkly skin-tight pants, and Blaine's red three-piece suit.  "Quite the throwback."

"Well, fashion is cyclical," Kurt said, smiling nervously.

"Nevermind Paul," Isabelle said with a laugh, "he just has trouble stepping out of his limited-palatte comfort zone.  This why I keep telling you the Paris team needs young people."

"Green people, you mean," Paul teased back, "wet-behind-the-ears boys and girls so starry-eyed in the presence of the indomitable Ms. Wright that they're falling all over themselves to let you shape their minds to your liking."

"I like to think some people our age know their own minds," Blaine said with a smile, and Kurt squeezed his hand.

"He has you there," Isabelle told Paul, and she winked at Kurt.

Kurt smiled against the rim of his glass, blushing, and tried not to tell himself that there was a chance Isabelle would consider him a suitable young candidate for the Paris team.

***

When it was time for Kurt's solo, he stood by the side of the stage, gripping the microphone in his hands.  Blaine came up behind him and squeezed his shoulders.  "Nervous?"

"A little." Kurt looked over his shoulder to smile at his boyfriend.  "Nothing I can't handle."  

"You're gonna kill it," Blaine told him.

He knew it wasn't really a big deal; the music was mostly background noise for the party.  But still, he was going to be singing in front of colleagues and superiors, Isabelle, and now the head of the London branch of Vogue, Paul.  The knowledge was kind of foreboding, but then Kurt was never one to shy from the spotlight.

And Rachel and Blaine and Isabelle were right; he knew his own mind, he knew fashion, and he'd already gone through the painful process of learning to embrace and be proud of himself.  He wasn't about to give that up now.

He stepped onto the stage, and Rachel, Blaine, and Santana followed, there to provide back-up vocals for him.  The [music](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=39aa2Hici0s) started, and Kurt took a deep breath, centering himself.

" _I won't let you down, I will not give you up, gotta have some faith in the sound..._ "

It didn't take him long to relax, having fun dancing with his friends on stage but still mindful of the people in the crowd.  He shimmied his shoulders, grinning at Isabelle's happy expression from where she stood by Paul, watching and swaying to the music.

" _...there's something else deep inside of me, someone else I've got to be..._ "

Kurt sang into the mic, letting Blaine spin him around before doing the same to Rachel.  Isabelle nudged Paul in the side with her elbow, and his expression gradually went from coolly neutral to impressed.  He nodded along with the beat of the song.

" _...I just hope you understand: sometimes the clothes do not make the man!_ "

Someone let out a whistle and Isabelle laughed in delight.  Kurt grinned wider.

The song was a long one, but the performance high was all he needed to power through it.  He spun in circles and shook his hips, singing to Blaine and then Santana, then Rachel and then the crowd.  When they reached the chorus for the third time, he was sweating, so he stripped off his jacket, leaving just his black dress shirt underneath.

" _Freedom!_ " Blaine, Rachel, and Santana harmonized together.  " _Freedom!_ "

" _My freedom_ ," Kurt sang, " _you've got to give for what you take..._ "

Not everyone was watching him, but people were dancing to the beat, laughing and chatting happily.  And some, like Isabelle, did have their eyes on him, and they clapped and cheered as he continued to sing.  He soaked up the energy, and yes, the freedom of being completely himself, only sweetened by the acceptance he found in the people onstage with them, as well as some in the crowd.

He felt like he could wear the unpopular mustard pants to work every day next week and without a moment's hesitation.

" _May not be what you want from me, just the way it's got to be, lose the face now; I've got to live, I've got to live!_ "

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (1) I wish there was better audio available for Blaine's song, but alas, I had to make do with the FNO commerical. Just pretend the people talking are chatter at the event ;)
> 
> (2) The location of the party is the ground floor lobby of The New Museum. There are around 250 guests at the event!
> 
> Songs:
> 
> Dress You Up In My Love (Madonna) by Blaine
> 
> Fashion (David Bowie) by Rachel and Santana
> 
> Freedom 90 (George Michael) by Kurt

**Author's Note:**

> Song Order: Dress You Up In My Love, Fashion, Freedom 90


End file.
